octopus gregor, commentary + fic
Dec. 15th, 2025 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iniquiticityoctopus gregor, commentary + fic
y'all I've been reading too many Vorkosigan books. I just had a dream that all barrayaran emperors, including Gregor, have a true form that is a massive octopus person that is red and blue. And in the dream I didn't believe this, so I went to the wiki, and the wiki had a helpful page that all barrayaran emperors are giant red and blue octopi, including Gregor (but they can shape shift into their human form and Gregor is human like 90% of the time), and the in-my-dream wiki actually had an exerpt from the book describing octopus Gregor.
also Gregor was in octopus form when he made Miles an Auditor. This was not the passage that the wiki used but a different passage.
Also when people use Capital Letters for Emperor mode, (such as speaking with Our Voice), the historical pattern here is that they are speaking with the octopus voice, which is so bassy it makes your teeth rattle.
some questions my dream lore did not establish:
- when did Cordelia find out about this? Is is widely known off planet?
- what about Gregor's girlfriend? Do the Komarrans know? How do they feel about this?
also you know mad emperor Yuri was doing octopus time SO much. Also Prince Serg. I guess this suggests that heirs are born with octopus form. I'm not sure what happens if you unexpectedly become the emperor, but "all emperors have octopus form" suggests that all Vorbarras are born with it I guess.
"Lord Auditor, you will be received in the East Wing."
"Thank you," Miles said, without giving away his disappointment. It was bad enough to bring Gregor this catastrophic mess that he'd done his best extricate Barrayar out of. Given the list of things he could say were his best this was a pretty pitiful showing. Now he he was going to have to tell the whole story not to Gregor, but to Emperor Vorbarra. Surely this meant that Gregor expected as terrible of news as Miles was about to give him. He did not know what Allegre had already sketched out.
Nothing in the rebuilt North Wing nothing really suited Emperor Vorbarra, which Miles was sure was completely intentional. He sighed as he turned ninety degrees and headed down the suitably-older East Wing, where such rooms and furniture still existed.
He waited. Vorhovis had promised to hear and offer opinions on the whole matter after. Miles couldn't decide how he wanted that conversation to go: that Vorhovis would agree there had been no winning at all, or that Vorhovis would point out, as if there had been some magical shelf above Miles' eyeline, where the obvious solution had been all along.
"You will be seen now," said the liveried man, so Miles nodded and stepped inside.
The broad, bulbous form of Emperor Vorbarra was half-spread upon a large sectional piece of furniture with a tall raised back, throne-like. Miles was trained well enough not to let his eyes wander across the body and all the meandering arms, skin smooth, dark blue with bright blue spots ringed with red. He had always found it interesting the body was in the military outfit and not the livery but, well, no one needed to tell him about commenting on appearances.
"LORD AUDITOR," Emperor Vorbarra said. One really couldn't use said for anything said with the Emperor's Voice. There it was, the original Emperor's Voice - the backing that held up the auditor's voice, feeble in comparison. Whenever his Auditor problem-solving required non-Barrayans, and they quirked eyebrows at how he spoke with the Emperor's Voice, he wanted them to be here, now, all of their chests thumping with the bone-shaking bassiness. His mother had been worried the Emperor's Voice would break his bones when he had still had real bones. Not an unfounded concern, though he had been fine.
"Sire," Miles said, bowing his head. He picked up his eyes and made eye contact with those eyes. It was more disconcerting than not, that the Emperor's eyes were still Gregor's - serious, grave, intense, considering. And they managed to do so with their rectangular black pupils, set in the dark blue sockets. His left eye was next to an incomplete, crescent-blue ring, outlined in bright red.
The Emperor drew in his wandering arms, resettling them and their slight movements more directly under his large, ovoid head. If he intended, the Emperor could be taller than anyone, if he stood on his arms in just the right way. Of course this meant he was now towering over Miles, no matter how much Miles was used to it. Still, it gave Miles the impression of sitting up, at attention. He angled his body just slightly so Miles could see both his eyes. They independently blinked.
"I UNDERSTAND THERE WERE MANY COMPLICATIONS."
"Yes, Sire." Miles said.
"WILL THERE BE WAR?" The Emperor asked, with an intensity that made Miles very relieved he had synthetics now, no matter how it had been when he was a child. He was also very grateful that he had triggered a seizure yesterday morning, because it was making his heart pound in his ears.
"I don't think so, Sire," Miles said. Gregor had once told him that folks either said nothing or too much in front of the Emperor, and he had been surprised Miles had ended up the former. Miles had no other explanation other than the Emperor was awe-inspiring in a way nothing else was. He had experienced every kind of terror in the world and nothing was this.
"YOU DON'T THINK SO, BUT YOU ARE NOT SURE." The Emperor moved closer on the sectional - almost hoverlike, in a particular way, buoyed by the hypnotic movement of his arms under him. Miles did not step back.
"I think it's less likely, Sire, but not out of the question."
The Emperor's blue-ringed skin contracted in what Miles could only describe as a pebbling of frustration. The red rings brightened, the color bleaching out of them. The great bulbous head turned from him, only one eye visible and watching him now. The arms spread outward, lowering his central body and making him more Miles' height. Arms were curling closer to him; Miles took a step back to avoid the front two which were now dangling over the front of the sectional and onto the floor. Then the Emperor turned his head back to Miles. The pupils were still black, but the sclera of his eyes had turned white.
"GIVE ME A REPORT SIMON WOULD NOT SEND BACK TWICE."
"Yes, Sire," Miles said.
y'all I've been reading too many Vorkosigan books. I just had a dream that all barrayaran emperors, including Gregor, have a true form that is a massive octopus person that is red and blue. And in the dream I didn't believe this, so I went to the wiki, and the wiki had a helpful page that all barrayaran emperors are giant red and blue octopi, including Gregor (but they can shape shift into their human form and Gregor is human like 90% of the time), and the in-my-dream wiki actually had an exerpt from the book describing octopus Gregor.
also Gregor was in octopus form when he made Miles an Auditor. This was not the passage that the wiki used but a different passage.
Also when people use Capital Letters for Emperor mode, (such as speaking with Our Voice), the historical pattern here is that they are speaking with the octopus voice, which is so bassy it makes your teeth rattle.
some questions my dream lore did not establish:
- when did Cordelia find out about this? Is is widely known off planet?
- what about Gregor's girlfriend? Do the Komarrans know? How do they feel about this?
also you know mad emperor Yuri was doing octopus time SO much. Also Prince Serg. I guess this suggests that heirs are born with octopus form. I'm not sure what happens if you unexpectedly become the emperor, but "all emperors have octopus form" suggests that all Vorbarras are born with it I guess.
"Lord Auditor, you will be received in the East Wing."
"Thank you," Miles said, without giving away his disappointment. It was bad enough to bring Gregor this catastrophic mess that he'd done his best extricate Barrayar out of. Given the list of things he could say were his best this was a pretty pitiful showing. Now he he was going to have to tell the whole story not to Gregor, but to Emperor Vorbarra. Surely this meant that Gregor expected as terrible of news as Miles was about to give him. He did not know what Allegre had already sketched out.
Nothing in the rebuilt North Wing nothing really suited Emperor Vorbarra, which Miles was sure was completely intentional. He sighed as he turned ninety degrees and headed down the suitably-older East Wing, where such rooms and furniture still existed.
He waited. Vorhovis had promised to hear and offer opinions on the whole matter after. Miles couldn't decide how he wanted that conversation to go: that Vorhovis would agree there had been no winning at all, or that Vorhovis would point out, as if there had been some magical shelf above Miles' eyeline, where the obvious solution had been all along.
"You will be seen now," said the liveried man, so Miles nodded and stepped inside.
The broad, bulbous form of Emperor Vorbarra was half-spread upon a large sectional piece of furniture with a tall raised back, throne-like. Miles was trained well enough not to let his eyes wander across the body and all the meandering arms, skin smooth, dark blue with bright blue spots ringed with red. He had always found it interesting the body was in the military outfit and not the livery but, well, no one needed to tell him about commenting on appearances.
"LORD AUDITOR," Emperor Vorbarra said. One really couldn't use said for anything said with the Emperor's Voice. There it was, the original Emperor's Voice - the backing that held up the auditor's voice, feeble in comparison. Whenever his Auditor problem-solving required non-Barrayans, and they quirked eyebrows at how he spoke with the Emperor's Voice, he wanted them to be here, now, all of their chests thumping with the bone-shaking bassiness. His mother had been worried the Emperor's Voice would break his bones when he had still had real bones. Not an unfounded concern, though he had been fine.
"Sire," Miles said, bowing his head. He picked up his eyes and made eye contact with those eyes. It was more disconcerting than not, that the Emperor's eyes were still Gregor's - serious, grave, intense, considering. And they managed to do so with their rectangular black pupils, set in the dark blue sockets. His left eye was next to an incomplete, crescent-blue ring, outlined in bright red.
The Emperor drew in his wandering arms, resettling them and their slight movements more directly under his large, ovoid head. If he intended, the Emperor could be taller than anyone, if he stood on his arms in just the right way. Of course this meant he was now towering over Miles, no matter how much Miles was used to it. Still, it gave Miles the impression of sitting up, at attention. He angled his body just slightly so Miles could see both his eyes. They independently blinked.
"I UNDERSTAND THERE WERE MANY COMPLICATIONS."
"Yes, Sire." Miles said.
"WILL THERE BE WAR?" The Emperor asked, with an intensity that made Miles very relieved he had synthetics now, no matter how it had been when he was a child. He was also very grateful that he had triggered a seizure yesterday morning, because it was making his heart pound in his ears.
"I don't think so, Sire," Miles said. Gregor had once told him that folks either said nothing or too much in front of the Emperor, and he had been surprised Miles had ended up the former. Miles had no other explanation other than the Emperor was awe-inspiring in a way nothing else was. He had experienced every kind of terror in the world and nothing was this.
"YOU DON'T THINK SO, BUT YOU ARE NOT SURE." The Emperor moved closer on the sectional - almost hoverlike, in a particular way, buoyed by the hypnotic movement of his arms under him. Miles did not step back.
"I think it's less likely, Sire, but not out of the question."
The Emperor's blue-ringed skin contracted in what Miles could only describe as a pebbling of frustration. The red rings brightened, the color bleaching out of them. The great bulbous head turned from him, only one eye visible and watching him now. The arms spread outward, lowering his central body and making him more Miles' height. Arms were curling closer to him; Miles took a step back to avoid the front two which were now dangling over the front of the sectional and onto the floor. Then the Emperor turned his head back to Miles. The pupils were still black, but the sclera of his eyes had turned white.
"GIVE ME A REPORT SIMON WOULD NOT SEND BACK TWICE."
"Yes, Sire," Miles said.